Wonder Of My World (7/?)
Title: Wonder Of My World (7/?)
Authors: cammissbloom & woodsbaile_02
Characters/Pairing: Jared/Jensen, Steve Carlson, Christian Kane
Word Count: 3.192
Disclaimers: We don’t own these people, they own themselves. None of this ever happened and, alas, the couple is not real. None of this was meant as an offence to anyone. We’re just pretending, folks.
Notes: (1) Story and chapters titles and quotes all coming from various Steve Carlson’s songs. (2) Huge thanks to wake_up_older29 for the amazing beta.
Summary: Something’s wrong with Jensen, and he makes a point not to tell Jared what is it. But when Jared finds out anyway, his reaction surprises even Jared himself.
Chapter 1 - Tell You A Tale | Chapter 2 - On The Road | Chapter 3 - Kinda Crazy These Days | Chapter 4 - I Could Never Say… | Chapter 5 - Losing My Mind | Chapter 6 - What You’re Running From
banner made by the lovely titheniel
---
Note: We're really really sorry for the delay on this chapter. All we gotta say is: life can be a total bitch. REALLY SORRY.
---
Wonder Of My World
Chapter 7 - Moving Along
“I’m fine as long as I’m moving right along. I went solo with this song yesterday.”
(“Radio In My Head” - Steve Carlson)
---
Jared’s eyes are scanning the king-sized bed carefully. There’s a fair amount of clothes scattered over it, and he just can’t decide which ones to pick for the show.
“Come on, this should be easy,” he says to none, letting out a small laugh.
“Jen, you’re making me choose my clothes. I’m so gonna kill ya, man,” he thinks, but there’s a fond smile on his lips.
Things are confusing right now. Sometimes he feels completely at ease with the idea of having Jensen around, other times he just doesn’t know what to do. But through it all, he knows (and hopes) that things will be all right.
He’s still trying to figure out what t-shirt would fit him best when a knock at the door interrupts his pondering. He’s so wrapped up in his fashion problems that he doesn’t even think twice before yanking the door open, realizing too late that he’s stripped to the waist.
Jensen doesn’t really seem to mind though, if his next actions are any indication of it. He closes the distance between them with just one stride, takes Jared’s face between his hands and kisses him, hard and long and begging.
Jared has no idea where that came from, but he has apparently finally found something he’s not confused about, as he definitely knows he’s loving this, whatever it is, whatever has prompted Jensen to act like that.
He kisses back with all he has, pulling Jensen closer and blindly closing the door. Next thing, Jensen is against the wall, Jared’s hands wandering all over his body: back, chest, face… everywhere his long fingers can reach.
Jensen moans under the touch, manages somewhat to do it quietly, and then lets his lips descend upon Jared’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, forcing Jared to fight for control over his own breathing as he feels that incredible mouth over his skin.
Jared’s hands work non-stop, finally coming to rest over Jensen’s butt, grabbing his cheeks and pulling the man even closer to his own body, and Jensen tenses at the contact, his lips sliding lower, down to Jared’s collarbone. They don’t suck at it, they don’t smear hurried trails of saliva over the smooth tanned skin. Jensen’s lips just kiss, light and small and delicate like the brush of a feather.
Jared’s fingers thread slowly through Jensen’s hair, his lips pressing a chaste kiss over Jensen’s neck before going to bite gently at his earlobe, his arm encircling Jensen’s waist to keep him close.
Jensen’s own hands run up Jared’s back in response, burying his fingers into Jared’s hair, hanging gently onto it. And yet, it feels like those soft locks are actually his anchor.
“I love you.”
It comes out hoarse with lust and broken with barely controlled fear, but Jensen doesn’t really care, not as long as he can say it.
The words make Jared freeze. He finally pulls back a little, one hand still entangled into Jensen’s hair, the other going to cup the man’s face, their bodies still pressed together.
“I love you, too,” he says, quietly but surely.
Jensen’s heart swells, and he can feel his eyes shining with the sudden, fierce knowledge that what he’s living, what they are living, is real.
Jared moves again, and Jensen parts his lips in anticipation, which gets totally crushed by a very inopportune knock at the door.
The look on his face must convey every ounce of his annoyance, because Jared gives him an almost apologetic smile as he pulls away.
On his part, Jared feels like he might just yell right in the face of whoever it is that’s standing on the other side of the door for taking the warmth of Jensen’s body away from him.
By the time he’s put on some random t-shirt and has strode up to the door, he’s definitely more than ready for said yelling, but the words die in his throat when he opens it, and he freezes, staring wide-eyed at the petite figure standing in front of him with a huge smile on her lips.
Sandy’s mouth is on his before he can even register what’s happening.
“I missed you so much, baby,” she says sweetly as she pulls back, staring at him through bottomless chocolate eyes.
Jared stares back dumbly, not quite sure of what to say.
“Yeah…” he finally manages. “Me too.”
She looks at him for a few moments longer, her smile never faltering, then she peers over his shoulder.
“Hi Jensen!” she greets cheerfully.
Jensen swallows hard and forces himself to return the smile, hoping that it doesn’t look as strained as it feels.
“Hi Sandy. How have you been?”
“I’m good.” Her smile widens impossibly. “What about you?”
“I’m awful, thanks.”
He doesn’t voice the thought. He just smiles until his jaw aches.
“I’m okay. Actually, I need to… uh… go…” he clears his throat, forcing himself to get a grip. “I have to go talk to Steve about the show. I guess I’ll see you there?”
“You bet!” Sandy cries enthusiastically.
“Yeah, I bet,”, Jensen thinks gloomily, pulling a veil down over his eyes so that neither Jared nor Sandy will be able to see what’s really going on in his head. “I’ll see you later, man,” he says before disappearing out of the room.
Jared watches the exchange between the man he loves and… well… the woman he loves, and damn if that doesn’t give him an headache. He watches Jensen smile, and he can see the strain in it, notices the absence of crinkles at the corners of Jensen’s eyes, which are always there when his smile is true.
He knows things have just gone from not being all right to worse, and he feels himself go numb as Jensen walks away and Sandy holds him closer.
“Damn. I’m so screwed.”
+++
Jensen takes out his guitar in silence, putting the strap carefully over his shoulders and testing the strings all over again, the buzz going on all around him barely registering as he loses himself in the tuning process.
There’s a sudden whistle somewhere above him, and Steve almost trips over some cables when he sees the black Fender.
“Wow!” he cries in awe. “Man, where did you find that beauty?”
Jensen looks up, forcing himself to appear remotely focused.
“Jared gave it to me, for my birthday. Isn’t it the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?” He runs his palm lovingly over the wooden body.
“Yeah, Jen, it’s beautiful,” Steve offers with a smile, fingers touching the neck carefully, deciding to enquire later on what it is that put that distant look in Jensen’s eyes. “You’re one hell of a lucky man to have it.”
“Might be the only thing I have.”
Jensen promptly smacks himself mentally as soon as the thought enters his head, because fuck, when has become so damn fragile?!
Jared chooses that moment to make his appearance backstage, followed suit by Sandy, and one look at those eyes and dimples has Jensen realize exactly when.
“CHRIS! Get your butt in here!”
Steve’s loud call makes Jensen jump out of his reverie and Chris look up sharply from where he’s helping set the instruments for Steve’s show and rush to backstage, only to be welcomed by what he considers to be quite a depressing sight: Jensen holding his guitar tightly and trying not to look as miserable as he probably feels, if the look lurking in his eyes is anything to go by; Jared looking like he would very much like to dig a hole in the ground and hide there for the rest of his life; for the first time in ages, Steve looks a little bit lost, trying to decide whether he should put on some sort of façade or just let his anger show. Sandy is the only one smiling, blissfully unaware of it all.
Chris stops at Steve’s side and gives him an ‘I can already see this shit hit the fan’ kind of look. Aloud, he only says, “What?”
“Jared and Sandy here have come to say hello. Be polite,” Steve says, playfully smacking him over the back of his head after returning the look.
Chris’ eyes change as they shift from Sandy to Jared, kind and smiling as he greets the girl and hard when settling upon the young man, his stern gaze not matching his words as he says, “How you doin’, man?”
“We should head out on stage,” Jensen speaks up, and it strikes him how he’d rather play in front of an audience than spend one more minute in the current predicament. “You don’t want to keep your fans waiting, do you, Steve?”
Chris can see that Steve’s still quite unsure of what he should be doing, but he manages to get his composure back and say, “Yeah man. We should get ready,” as if he’s got nothing else on his mind but the show.
Seeing it as his cue to get everyone out of there, Chris smiles reassuringly at Jensen and drags Jared and Sandy out of the backstage with him.
“Jensen looked a little weird,” Sandy remarks worriedly as they sit at their table, which is practically under the stage. “Is he okay?”
Jared stares at her with a look in his eyes that he knows must make him appear quite like a lost puppy. Fact is, he didn’t get the chance to talk to Jensen after the ‘room incident’, and he has no idea of how the man is. All he knows is that he’s so confused that his head’s spinning, and that he misses Jensen already. A lot.
Chris watches Jared intently, waiting eagerly for his answer, but it looks like the kid has gone mute on them. He mumbles something that sounds a lot like “Asshole” under his breath, and then proceeds to throw Sandy the brightest smile he can muster up.
“Jensen’s alright,” he reassures. “He’s just worried about his performance, you know how shy the man gets in font of an audience.”
Sandy gives a small laugh at the wink Chris throws at her.
“That I know,” she nods eagerly, and then her eyes are suddenly drawn to the stage as Steve and his band come on, Jensen going to sit down on a stool a few feet away from Steve himself.
The buzzing in the room actually fades away as everyone stares expectantly at the musicians.
“Hey everybody!” Steve greets cheerfully, and the crowd immediately cheers back. “All right, so we have a special guest tonight, a very good friend of mine,” he gestures at Jensen with one hand. “Jensen Ackles, over there, which some of you may know from that spooky TV show that I carefully avoid watching,” he jokes. “Jensen agreed do sing back vocals tonight. Thought we’d begin with something light. Boy’s kinda shy, you know, gotta get him to relax a little.”
Jensen throws him a glare as he settles his new, shining black guitar carefully on his knees.
Jared finds himself going mute all over again.
”He’s gonna use the guitar.”
That’s the only thing in his mind, the only words his fuzzed brain can come up with, and suddenly he can’t look anywhere else, but at Jensen and his new possession.
The chords are quick, the notes bright. The lyrics, on the other hand, are not, and Jensen has to wonder over Steve’s own definition of “light”.
“We talk each night from a thousand miles away”
Steve’s voice fills the room, and there’s some whooping somewhere among the crowd.
“Sometimes there’s just nothing left to say
‘Cause we’re on the phone and you’re all alone
And there’s so much you’ve withstood
But baby sometimes
‘I love you’ sounds so good”
“Say it over and over and over again until it all sinks in
And when we end this call and the teardrops fall and cling onto your chin
I know you should leave me
And I know you probably would
But sometimes ‘I love you’ sounds so good”
Jensen joins in at the chorus, fingers dancing over the strings on their own accord, voice as clear as his heart is heavy, and no matter how much he has tried to tell himself not to look at Jared, his eyes can’t help boring into the younger man’s face as he sings those last words.
Apparently though, he’s not the only enthralled one.
Jared can’t stop looking at Jensen. He knows that song is being sung for him, Jensen’s looks tell the whole tale, and under the man’s gaze, Jared feels both alive and dizzy with confusion at the same time.
It’s like it’s just Jensen and himself, alone in that bar, until Sandy gets closer and holds him tight.
Jared breaks eye contact for the briefest of moments, turning to give Sandy a small smile, and when he looks back at Jensen, he can see the hurt shining deep and bright into the green irises.
Jensen looks away quickly, his eyes never returning to Jared again throughout the whole performance, and when Steve finally announces a break, he’s off the stage as quick as his legs can carry him without breaking into a full run or tripping over some wires, his now unplugged guitar still slung over his shoulders.
“Jen!” Steve hisses urgently after him. “Jensen! Dammit…”
The urge to talk to Jensen slams into Jared as soon as he sees him practically dashing backstage. He’s about to excuse himself to Sandy when Chris blocks his way, almost bodily jumping in front of his chair as he throws a hurried “Don’t move, guys, I’ll be right back” over his shoulder before disappearing, as well.
”Fuck,” Jared thinks in frustration, while Sandy entwines their fingers together.
+++
Jensen has somehow managed to find himself the only quiet corner in the whole backstage, with none in sight and just a faint echo of the buzz that’s really going on, and is now strumming out chords on his guitar, letting the strings talk in his stead.
He can hear Chris calling for him, hurried, almost frantic steps running around the large area.
“Jensen? Jen! Where are you, man?”
There’s a slightly hysterical note in Chris’ voice, and Jensen might start wondering about it if it wasn’t for the fact that he has decided to ignore his friend for probably the first time ever. He plays harder. It’s like he can’t stop, and the chords are the only thing tying him to the here and now and not allowing him to give in to his instinct of packing his guitar and drive away.
”Go away,” he pleads silently in his mind. ”Please go away, Chris. I’m so not in the mood.”
Of course, no such luck will be granted, as Chris is currently exploring every single inch of backstage in his search.
“Fucking answer me, Jen, dammit!” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Jen!” he calls loudly again.
Chris roams about for a few more minutes, and he’s this close to going back to find Steve and ask for his help when he finally hears some music. He’d recognize that way of playing anywhere, and he hastily follows the sound.
He breathes in relief when he sees Jensen sitting quietly in a corner, completely absorbed in his music, glad that he hasn’t run away after all. He walks closer, close enough so that Jensen can see him, but not so much that he would bother him.
Jensen is quite aware of Chris’ presence, watching him like an hawk and yet giving him some precious space.
He doesn’t look up. He keeps staring down at the floor, not really seeing it, brow slightly creased in a scowl, fingers running angrily over the chords.
He idly realizes that he’s now playing what Steve has christened as “the Pissed Off Song”, otherwise known as Rattlesnake Smile. Such a realization would have him laughing in any other circumstances: really, how ridiculously ironic is to play a Kane song in front of Christian Kane while he’s hovering over you, trying to glare holes through your flesh?
Presently though, he doesn’t really give a damn, because that song? Best let-out ever. And Jensen needs to let go now, even if just a little.
He pretends not to notice Chris’ slight smile as he realizes what song is being played, pretends not to see his friend coming up to him once he has stopped playing, advancing carefully, as if he thinks Jensen is some sort of lion ready to attack.
Jensen reaches out and studiously starts tuning the guitar as if he’s alone.
“Jen,” Chris murmurs pointedly.
Jensen stays silent for a few moments before muttering out a curt, “What?”, still working on the instrument.
“Jen, stop playing and look at me, man.”
“Can’t play with Steve if the thing is not in tune,” Jensen says flatly, refusing to grant the request, his eyes purposely fixed on the strings.
“You can’t play at all if you destroy the strings, as you were almost doing while playing that song.”
Jensen doesn’t reply at all, just strums a few notes lightly to check the tuning.
“Dude, I’m serious,” Chris says. “Look at me.”
“Stop it, Chris,” Jensen finally says, although he still doesn’t look up. “I’m okay.”
“Jen.” Chris clears his throat, because fuck if his voice doesn’t break a little over the word. “Please, man. Put that guitar down and look at me.”
Jensen finally looks up, trying to keep the walls up between his gaze and the world. Between him and Chris.
“What do you want, Chris?” he asks dryly.
Chris doesn’t say anything. He knows that words won’t really make a difference right now. He just grabs a hold of Jensen’s guitar and slowly takes it out of his grasp. Then, without a second thought, he tugs at Jensen’s arm and pulls him upright, quickly wrapping his arms around him for a tight comforting hug.
Jensen stiffens in his arms, trying almost instantly to pull away.
“Leave me alone,” he says, but there’s not much heat in his voice.
He knows Chris is only trying to help, and he’s grateful beyond words, but he also needs to keep his façade up. He hopes said mask will work on Chris, too, somehow, sooner or later.
But Chris’ hold only gets tighter.
“Man, you should be thankful I’m not saying a word,” he says with a small, weak laugh. “Seriously, don’t you even try to push me away right now.” He pulls back a little to stare into his friend’s eyes. “I’ve known you long enough and well enough to know better than to believe any crap you might give me.”
“Let me go.”
It comes out broken, and Jensen hates himself for that.
“Let me go.”
He’s hugging Chris back even as he says it, his arms tightening around the broad torso of his friend.
“Let me go.”
It takes Steve just one look to decide that he’s played nice long enough.
He unglues himself from his position in the doorway and storms away, his stride purposeful, his blue eyes shooting daggers.
TBC
---
Comments are highly appreciated!
Authors: cammissbloom & woodsbaile_02
Characters/Pairing: Jared/Jensen, Steve Carlson, Christian Kane
Word Count: 3.192
Disclaimers: We don’t own these people, they own themselves. None of this ever happened and, alas, the couple is not real. None of this was meant as an offence to anyone. We’re just pretending, folks.
Notes: (1) Story and chapters titles and quotes all coming from various Steve Carlson’s songs. (2) Huge thanks to wake_up_older29 for the amazing beta.
Summary: Something’s wrong with Jensen, and he makes a point not to tell Jared what is it. But when Jared finds out anyway, his reaction surprises even Jared himself.
Chapter 1 - Tell You A Tale | Chapter 2 - On The Road | Chapter 3 - Kinda Crazy These Days | Chapter 4 - I Could Never Say… | Chapter 5 - Losing My Mind | Chapter 6 - What You’re Running From
banner made by the lovely titheniel
---
Note: We're really really sorry for the delay on this chapter. All we gotta say is: life can be a total bitch. REALLY SORRY.
---
Wonder Of My World
Chapter 7 - Moving Along
“I’m fine as long as I’m moving right along. I went solo with this song yesterday.”
(“Radio In My Head” - Steve Carlson)
---
Jared’s eyes are scanning the king-sized bed carefully. There’s a fair amount of clothes scattered over it, and he just can’t decide which ones to pick for the show.
“Come on, this should be easy,” he says to none, letting out a small laugh.
“Jen, you’re making me choose my clothes. I’m so gonna kill ya, man,” he thinks, but there’s a fond smile on his lips.
Things are confusing right now. Sometimes he feels completely at ease with the idea of having Jensen around, other times he just doesn’t know what to do. But through it all, he knows (and hopes) that things will be all right.
He’s still trying to figure out what t-shirt would fit him best when a knock at the door interrupts his pondering. He’s so wrapped up in his fashion problems that he doesn’t even think twice before yanking the door open, realizing too late that he’s stripped to the waist.
Jensen doesn’t really seem to mind though, if his next actions are any indication of it. He closes the distance between them with just one stride, takes Jared’s face between his hands and kisses him, hard and long and begging.
Jared has no idea where that came from, but he has apparently finally found something he’s not confused about, as he definitely knows he’s loving this, whatever it is, whatever has prompted Jensen to act like that.
He kisses back with all he has, pulling Jensen closer and blindly closing the door. Next thing, Jensen is against the wall, Jared’s hands wandering all over his body: back, chest, face… everywhere his long fingers can reach.
Jensen moans under the touch, manages somewhat to do it quietly, and then lets his lips descend upon Jared’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, forcing Jared to fight for control over his own breathing as he feels that incredible mouth over his skin.
Jared’s hands work non-stop, finally coming to rest over Jensen’s butt, grabbing his cheeks and pulling the man even closer to his own body, and Jensen tenses at the contact, his lips sliding lower, down to Jared’s collarbone. They don’t suck at it, they don’t smear hurried trails of saliva over the smooth tanned skin. Jensen’s lips just kiss, light and small and delicate like the brush of a feather.
Jared’s fingers thread slowly through Jensen’s hair, his lips pressing a chaste kiss over Jensen’s neck before going to bite gently at his earlobe, his arm encircling Jensen’s waist to keep him close.
Jensen’s own hands run up Jared’s back in response, burying his fingers into Jared’s hair, hanging gently onto it. And yet, it feels like those soft locks are actually his anchor.
“I love you.”
It comes out hoarse with lust and broken with barely controlled fear, but Jensen doesn’t really care, not as long as he can say it.
The words make Jared freeze. He finally pulls back a little, one hand still entangled into Jensen’s hair, the other going to cup the man’s face, their bodies still pressed together.
“I love you, too,” he says, quietly but surely.
Jensen’s heart swells, and he can feel his eyes shining with the sudden, fierce knowledge that what he’s living, what they are living, is real.
Jared moves again, and Jensen parts his lips in anticipation, which gets totally crushed by a very inopportune knock at the door.
The look on his face must convey every ounce of his annoyance, because Jared gives him an almost apologetic smile as he pulls away.
On his part, Jared feels like he might just yell right in the face of whoever it is that’s standing on the other side of the door for taking the warmth of Jensen’s body away from him.
By the time he’s put on some random t-shirt and has strode up to the door, he’s definitely more than ready for said yelling, but the words die in his throat when he opens it, and he freezes, staring wide-eyed at the petite figure standing in front of him with a huge smile on her lips.
Sandy’s mouth is on his before he can even register what’s happening.
“I missed you so much, baby,” she says sweetly as she pulls back, staring at him through bottomless chocolate eyes.
Jared stares back dumbly, not quite sure of what to say.
“Yeah…” he finally manages. “Me too.”
She looks at him for a few moments longer, her smile never faltering, then she peers over his shoulder.
“Hi Jensen!” she greets cheerfully.
Jensen swallows hard and forces himself to return the smile, hoping that it doesn’t look as strained as it feels.
“Hi Sandy. How have you been?”
“I’m good.” Her smile widens impossibly. “What about you?”
“I’m awful, thanks.”
He doesn’t voice the thought. He just smiles until his jaw aches.
“I’m okay. Actually, I need to… uh… go…” he clears his throat, forcing himself to get a grip. “I have to go talk to Steve about the show. I guess I’ll see you there?”
“You bet!” Sandy cries enthusiastically.
“Yeah, I bet,”, Jensen thinks gloomily, pulling a veil down over his eyes so that neither Jared nor Sandy will be able to see what’s really going on in his head. “I’ll see you later, man,” he says before disappearing out of the room.
Jared watches the exchange between the man he loves and… well… the woman he loves, and damn if that doesn’t give him an headache. He watches Jensen smile, and he can see the strain in it, notices the absence of crinkles at the corners of Jensen’s eyes, which are always there when his smile is true.
He knows things have just gone from not being all right to worse, and he feels himself go numb as Jensen walks away and Sandy holds him closer.
“Damn. I’m so screwed.”
+++
Jensen takes out his guitar in silence, putting the strap carefully over his shoulders and testing the strings all over again, the buzz going on all around him barely registering as he loses himself in the tuning process.
There’s a sudden whistle somewhere above him, and Steve almost trips over some cables when he sees the black Fender.
“Wow!” he cries in awe. “Man, where did you find that beauty?”
Jensen looks up, forcing himself to appear remotely focused.
“Jared gave it to me, for my birthday. Isn’t it the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?” He runs his palm lovingly over the wooden body.
“Yeah, Jen, it’s beautiful,” Steve offers with a smile, fingers touching the neck carefully, deciding to enquire later on what it is that put that distant look in Jensen’s eyes. “You’re one hell of a lucky man to have it.”
“Might be the only thing I have.”
Jensen promptly smacks himself mentally as soon as the thought enters his head, because fuck, when has become so damn fragile?!
Jared chooses that moment to make his appearance backstage, followed suit by Sandy, and one look at those eyes and dimples has Jensen realize exactly when.
“CHRIS! Get your butt in here!”
Steve’s loud call makes Jensen jump out of his reverie and Chris look up sharply from where he’s helping set the instruments for Steve’s show and rush to backstage, only to be welcomed by what he considers to be quite a depressing sight: Jensen holding his guitar tightly and trying not to look as miserable as he probably feels, if the look lurking in his eyes is anything to go by; Jared looking like he would very much like to dig a hole in the ground and hide there for the rest of his life; for the first time in ages, Steve looks a little bit lost, trying to decide whether he should put on some sort of façade or just let his anger show. Sandy is the only one smiling, blissfully unaware of it all.
Chris stops at Steve’s side and gives him an ‘I can already see this shit hit the fan’ kind of look. Aloud, he only says, “What?”
“Jared and Sandy here have come to say hello. Be polite,” Steve says, playfully smacking him over the back of his head after returning the look.
Chris’ eyes change as they shift from Sandy to Jared, kind and smiling as he greets the girl and hard when settling upon the young man, his stern gaze not matching his words as he says, “How you doin’, man?”
“We should head out on stage,” Jensen speaks up, and it strikes him how he’d rather play in front of an audience than spend one more minute in the current predicament. “You don’t want to keep your fans waiting, do you, Steve?”
Chris can see that Steve’s still quite unsure of what he should be doing, but he manages to get his composure back and say, “Yeah man. We should get ready,” as if he’s got nothing else on his mind but the show.
Seeing it as his cue to get everyone out of there, Chris smiles reassuringly at Jensen and drags Jared and Sandy out of the backstage with him.
“Jensen looked a little weird,” Sandy remarks worriedly as they sit at their table, which is practically under the stage. “Is he okay?”
Jared stares at her with a look in his eyes that he knows must make him appear quite like a lost puppy. Fact is, he didn’t get the chance to talk to Jensen after the ‘room incident’, and he has no idea of how the man is. All he knows is that he’s so confused that his head’s spinning, and that he misses Jensen already. A lot.
Chris watches Jared intently, waiting eagerly for his answer, but it looks like the kid has gone mute on them. He mumbles something that sounds a lot like “Asshole” under his breath, and then proceeds to throw Sandy the brightest smile he can muster up.
“Jensen’s alright,” he reassures. “He’s just worried about his performance, you know how shy the man gets in font of an audience.”
Sandy gives a small laugh at the wink Chris throws at her.
“That I know,” she nods eagerly, and then her eyes are suddenly drawn to the stage as Steve and his band come on, Jensen going to sit down on a stool a few feet away from Steve himself.
The buzzing in the room actually fades away as everyone stares expectantly at the musicians.
“Hey everybody!” Steve greets cheerfully, and the crowd immediately cheers back. “All right, so we have a special guest tonight, a very good friend of mine,” he gestures at Jensen with one hand. “Jensen Ackles, over there, which some of you may know from that spooky TV show that I carefully avoid watching,” he jokes. “Jensen agreed do sing back vocals tonight. Thought we’d begin with something light. Boy’s kinda shy, you know, gotta get him to relax a little.”
Jensen throws him a glare as he settles his new, shining black guitar carefully on his knees.
Jared finds himself going mute all over again.
”He’s gonna use the guitar.”
That’s the only thing in his mind, the only words his fuzzed brain can come up with, and suddenly he can’t look anywhere else, but at Jensen and his new possession.
The chords are quick, the notes bright. The lyrics, on the other hand, are not, and Jensen has to wonder over Steve’s own definition of “light”.
“We talk each night from a thousand miles away”
Steve’s voice fills the room, and there’s some whooping somewhere among the crowd.
“Sometimes there’s just nothing left to say
‘Cause we’re on the phone and you’re all alone
And there’s so much you’ve withstood
But baby sometimes
‘I love you’ sounds so good”
“Say it over and over and over again until it all sinks in
And when we end this call and the teardrops fall and cling onto your chin
I know you should leave me
And I know you probably would
But sometimes ‘I love you’ sounds so good”
Jensen joins in at the chorus, fingers dancing over the strings on their own accord, voice as clear as his heart is heavy, and no matter how much he has tried to tell himself not to look at Jared, his eyes can’t help boring into the younger man’s face as he sings those last words.
Apparently though, he’s not the only enthralled one.
Jared can’t stop looking at Jensen. He knows that song is being sung for him, Jensen’s looks tell the whole tale, and under the man’s gaze, Jared feels both alive and dizzy with confusion at the same time.
It’s like it’s just Jensen and himself, alone in that bar, until Sandy gets closer and holds him tight.
Jared breaks eye contact for the briefest of moments, turning to give Sandy a small smile, and when he looks back at Jensen, he can see the hurt shining deep and bright into the green irises.
Jensen looks away quickly, his eyes never returning to Jared again throughout the whole performance, and when Steve finally announces a break, he’s off the stage as quick as his legs can carry him without breaking into a full run or tripping over some wires, his now unplugged guitar still slung over his shoulders.
“Jen!” Steve hisses urgently after him. “Jensen! Dammit…”
The urge to talk to Jensen slams into Jared as soon as he sees him practically dashing backstage. He’s about to excuse himself to Sandy when Chris blocks his way, almost bodily jumping in front of his chair as he throws a hurried “Don’t move, guys, I’ll be right back” over his shoulder before disappearing, as well.
”Fuck,” Jared thinks in frustration, while Sandy entwines their fingers together.
+++
Jensen has somehow managed to find himself the only quiet corner in the whole backstage, with none in sight and just a faint echo of the buzz that’s really going on, and is now strumming out chords on his guitar, letting the strings talk in his stead.
He can hear Chris calling for him, hurried, almost frantic steps running around the large area.
“Jensen? Jen! Where are you, man?”
There’s a slightly hysterical note in Chris’ voice, and Jensen might start wondering about it if it wasn’t for the fact that he has decided to ignore his friend for probably the first time ever. He plays harder. It’s like he can’t stop, and the chords are the only thing tying him to the here and now and not allowing him to give in to his instinct of packing his guitar and drive away.
”Go away,” he pleads silently in his mind. ”Please go away, Chris. I’m so not in the mood.”
Of course, no such luck will be granted, as Chris is currently exploring every single inch of backstage in his search.
“Fucking answer me, Jen, dammit!” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Jen!” he calls loudly again.
Chris roams about for a few more minutes, and he’s this close to going back to find Steve and ask for his help when he finally hears some music. He’d recognize that way of playing anywhere, and he hastily follows the sound.
He breathes in relief when he sees Jensen sitting quietly in a corner, completely absorbed in his music, glad that he hasn’t run away after all. He walks closer, close enough so that Jensen can see him, but not so much that he would bother him.
Jensen is quite aware of Chris’ presence, watching him like an hawk and yet giving him some precious space.
He doesn’t look up. He keeps staring down at the floor, not really seeing it, brow slightly creased in a scowl, fingers running angrily over the chords.
He idly realizes that he’s now playing what Steve has christened as “the Pissed Off Song”, otherwise known as Rattlesnake Smile. Such a realization would have him laughing in any other circumstances: really, how ridiculously ironic is to play a Kane song in front of Christian Kane while he’s hovering over you, trying to glare holes through your flesh?
Presently though, he doesn’t really give a damn, because that song? Best let-out ever. And Jensen needs to let go now, even if just a little.
He pretends not to notice Chris’ slight smile as he realizes what song is being played, pretends not to see his friend coming up to him once he has stopped playing, advancing carefully, as if he thinks Jensen is some sort of lion ready to attack.
Jensen reaches out and studiously starts tuning the guitar as if he’s alone.
“Jen,” Chris murmurs pointedly.
Jensen stays silent for a few moments before muttering out a curt, “What?”, still working on the instrument.
“Jen, stop playing and look at me, man.”
“Can’t play with Steve if the thing is not in tune,” Jensen says flatly, refusing to grant the request, his eyes purposely fixed on the strings.
“You can’t play at all if you destroy the strings, as you were almost doing while playing that song.”
Jensen doesn’t reply at all, just strums a few notes lightly to check the tuning.
“Dude, I’m serious,” Chris says. “Look at me.”
“Stop it, Chris,” Jensen finally says, although he still doesn’t look up. “I’m okay.”
“Jen.” Chris clears his throat, because fuck if his voice doesn’t break a little over the word. “Please, man. Put that guitar down and look at me.”
Jensen finally looks up, trying to keep the walls up between his gaze and the world. Between him and Chris.
“What do you want, Chris?” he asks dryly.
Chris doesn’t say anything. He knows that words won’t really make a difference right now. He just grabs a hold of Jensen’s guitar and slowly takes it out of his grasp. Then, without a second thought, he tugs at Jensen’s arm and pulls him upright, quickly wrapping his arms around him for a tight comforting hug.
Jensen stiffens in his arms, trying almost instantly to pull away.
“Leave me alone,” he says, but there’s not much heat in his voice.
He knows Chris is only trying to help, and he’s grateful beyond words, but he also needs to keep his façade up. He hopes said mask will work on Chris, too, somehow, sooner or later.
But Chris’ hold only gets tighter.
“Man, you should be thankful I’m not saying a word,” he says with a small, weak laugh. “Seriously, don’t you even try to push me away right now.” He pulls back a little to stare into his friend’s eyes. “I’ve known you long enough and well enough to know better than to believe any crap you might give me.”
“Let me go.”
It comes out broken, and Jensen hates himself for that.
“Let me go.”
He’s hugging Chris back even as he says it, his arms tightening around the broad torso of his friend.
“Let me go.”
It takes Steve just one look to decide that he’s played nice long enough.
He unglues himself from his position in the doorway and storms away, his stride purposeful, his blue eyes shooting daggers.
TBC
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